


They Never Do

by NachoDiablo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Bring Back Black, M/M, Mild Blood, Mystery, Necromancy, Post-Veil, RS Fireside Tales, Resurrection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-10-10 11:16:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17424854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NachoDiablo/pseuds/NachoDiablo
Summary: Remus will pay any price to bring Sirius back. Even if what he brings back is not wholly Sirius.Written forRS Fireside Tales 2019.





	They Never Do

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you Muse and Gloom for running such a fun fest!
> 
> Shout out to [bshiat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bshiat) and [shaggydogstail](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shaggydogstail/pseuds/shaggydogstail) for their help and cheering.

The dead don't know death. Death is for the living.  

— Şükrü Erbaş

 

\- - - - - - -

 

“He won’t be the same.”

The room was warm and stuffy, but Remus felt a chill from the cool words. He shivered, and pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders. “What do you mean?” he asked. “You said you could bring him back.”

The woman across the table smiled, and adjusted the golden silk shawl draped around her shoulders. She would have been beautiful, with her pale honey curls and heart shaped mouth, if not for the sickly green undertones of her complexion and the opaque onyx of her eyes. “I can,” she replied evenly, “but he won’t come back the same. They never do.”

Remus rummaged in his cloak pocket and pulled out a worn leather bag. He hefted it onto the table, where it slid to a stop by the woman’s left hand. “You said you could do it, if I brought the Galleons. I’ve upheld my end of the bargain. Will you do the same?”

She lifted one ring-encrusted hand and lightly nudged the bag back across the table. “I said that I could do it, if you understood the cost.”

Remus was well aware of the  _ cost. _ He’d begged Harry to let him access Sirius’ vault in order to procure the requested fee. Harry had been reluctant  _ (“please promise me you aren’t going to go on some sort of bender and off yourself,”)  _ but eventually he had capitulated and allowed Remus to withdraw the funds.

The woman shook her head before Remus could protest. “I need you to understand the complete cost,” she said. ”He won’t be his old self. He won’t be  _ whole. _ He will be more like a shell, or a memory.” 

Remus saw Sirius laughing as he fell through the veil, dissolved into nothingness. He felt Harry’s nails digging into his arms as he screamed for Sirius to come back. 

His shouldered squared under his cloak as he reached out decisively and pushed the bag back across. “Anything you can bring back is more than enough.”

 

\- - - - - - -

 

Remus tapped his wand against the cottage door and pushed it open with a flourish. “Here we are,” he announced. The false cheeriness of the words scraped painfully across his throat. “Home sweet home.” 

He’d acquired the cottage recently, as a place to let Sirius recuperate before re-introducing him to the others. Remus didn’t want Harry to meet Sirius again until he was sure of just how much death had changed him. 

Sirius walked over the threshold. He paused to smile at Remus before he entered the cottage. Remus followed him in and spelled the door shut as quickly as he could. Once the door was secured, he turned his eager eyes to watch as Sirius looked around the room.

Remus held his breath as Sirius turned to face him. The corners of Sirius’ eyes crinkled as he smiled. “It’s perfect. Just how I remember.”

Remus frowned. “We’ve never been here before.” 

Sirius’ smile didn’t falter as he tilted his head. “That’s right. This is a new place. It just seems so familiar.”

Remus wracked his brain for a place they’d stayed that was similar to the cottage, but he was shaken from his thoughts when Sirius materialized in front of him and pressed him up against the door.

“I suppose it feels familiar because you’re here.” Sirius’ voice was silk in his ear. He pressed his hips forward and bent to suck a kiss against Remus’ collarbone.

Remus threaded a hand through familiar dark hair, leaned his head back, and closed his eyes.

 

\- - - - - - -

 

“This is delicious.” Sirius hovered a spoonful of stew near his face as he inhaled the warm scent deeply. “You’re a brilliant cook, Moony.”

Remus was not a brilliant cook, and he knew it. Sirius must have noticed the look of skepticism on his face, because he laughed and dropped his spoon back into his bowl. “Everything is relative,” he says smoothly. “It’s no Hogwarts feast, but it’ll do.”

He glanced around the table and frowned. “Where’s the pepper?”

“It’s…” Remus trailed off as he scanned the table. “I thought I brought it out from the kitchen.”

Remus didn’t  _ think _ he brought it out from the kitchen. He  _ knew _ he brought it out. He had placed it next to the salt on the far end of the table. Right by the whorl in the wood that looked like a snail shell, where the salt now stood alone. But as he met Sirius’ wide-eyed expression of innocence, he sighed and pushed his chair back.

“I must have left it. I’ll be right back.”

Remus was nearly at the doorway, pepper in hand, when he paused. He’d thought he’d heard Sirius muttering something under his breath. He stood silently by the doorway and peered around the jamb.

Sirius’ wand tapped against the edge of his bowl. A few muttered words slipped from his lips, words that Remus didn’t recognize, harsh and guttural as they were. The stew drained away, leaving a few drops of broth and a stray potato piece at the bottom.

Remus held his breath as he watched Sirius stuff his wand back into his robes and settle in to stare blankly at the wall. He had noticed Sirius vanishing bits of food before, but Sirius had laughed it off as a picky post-death appetite. Remus’ gaze didn’t break away from Sirius’ face as he attempted to dredge up a memory of Sirius eating something, anything, even the smallest mouthful. 

Eventually, he came up empty. His gaze darted to the clock, and he bit back a curse as he realized eleven minutes had passed. He hurried back into the dining room and placed the pepper on the table in front of Sirius.

“Looks like I’m too late,” he said lightly. “Sorry. I had to refill the grinder.”

“It’s fine,” Sirius replied. “It doesn’t matter.”

The smile curled across Sirius’ face made Remus’ blood run cold. It was a knowing smile, with a hint of amusement in one arched eyebrow, so similar to the smiles Remus remembered from post-prank escapades, and yet not the same at all. 

Remus felt sick as his eyes met Sirius’. The irises were the same silver he remembered, but now he’d swear they were rimmed with a hint of dark crimson. Remus looked down at his own bowl and quickly spooned a bite of stew into his mouth. He couldn’t bear to look at those eyes for another second.

In the eleven minutes that he’d watched Sirius from the kitchen, they hadn’t blinked once.

 

\- - - - - - -

 

The front door to the cottage opened, and Sirius strode inside with a careless air. 

“Where have you been?” Remus bit back the bile in his words.

Sirius smirked. “I’ve been out,” he said blithely. 

Remus wanted to scream. Sirius had taken to slipping out of the cottage for hours at a time, with no notice. He always returned with nothing amiss, but every minute that ticked by with Sirius unaccounted for was a minute that Remus spent in agonizing pain.

And Sirius knew that.

“It’s three in the morning.” Remus’ voice belied a calmness that he did not feel.

Sirius shrugged. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Remus yearned to burst into hysterical laughter. Sirius never slept. Remus spent a fair amount of time tossing and turning these days, but Sirius had given up all pretense of rest weeks ago.

He wanted to shout at Sirius, demand that he explain what was happening. 

As he looked into those ravaged eyes, he knew he couldn’t.

Sirius moved like liquid as he made his way to Remus on the sofa. He dropped his tall frame into Remus’ lap, legs bracketing in his hips and arms wound around him. “Hope you weren’t waiting up for me,” he murmured. Warm fingers raked through Remus’ hair, sharp nails scraped against his scalp. The same nails that would slice across his back later, while Sirius fucked him.

Remus buried his face against the warmth of Sirius’ neck. He tried to ignore the sickly sweet scent of belladonna that lingered beneath the familiar soap and sweat. “Can’t sleep without you,” he mumbled. “I need you. I need you  _ here.” _

“I  _ am _ here.” Sirius laughed as he pushed Remus away from him and pressed him into the back of the sofa. His thumbs dug sharply into Remus’ shoulders, pinning him to the sofa. Remus hissed in pain, and Sirius laughed again, crueler this time.

“You  _ need _ me,” Sirius said. He dug his thumbs in deeper. Remus tasted blood as his teeth sunk into his tongue to keep from crying out.

Sirius’ grin widened. He bent down to kiss Remus, teeth gnashing against Remus’ lips, tongue lapping at the blood.

_ “Fuck,” _ Remus gasped against Sirius’ mouth. He gripped Sirius’ hips and moaned as Sirius grabbed his lower lip between his teeth and bit down hard. Remus could feel a trickle of blood run down his chin. Sirius pulled away, licking his lips. He reached out with one finger to capture the lone drop of blood, then brought his finger to his own lips, sucking it in eagerly, eyes never leaving Remus’ face, never blinking.

“That’s why I’m here.” A touch of mocking threaded through Sirius’ voice. “You brought me here because you  _ need _ me.”

Sirius blurred in Remus’ vision as his eyes welled up with tears. “Yes,” he whispered. “I do.”

 

\- - - - - - -

 

Remus struggled not to run through the Hogwarts halls. He was late for his mission debrief with Dumbledore, but he also didn’t want to run afoul of Filch and be delayed further. His concentration on being inconspicuous backfired when he accidentally, and literally, ran into Hermione.

“Merlin! I’m sorry, Professor!” Hermione looked distracted as she kneeled down to gather her spilled books.

Remus chuckled as he bent down to help her. “Not a professor anymore. And it was my fault, I apologise.”

“Oh, it’s quite alright,” Hermione said. She frowned, and clutched her books to her chest as she looked up at him with concern. “I hope you’ve been well?”

Remus balked. Surely she didn’t know what he’d done in Knockturn Alley last month. He hadn’t told anyone about his deal, nor about the results. He was saved from having to drum up a mundane answer as she continued to talk. 

“It’s only that Harry mentioned you’re living near Merlin’s Woods,” she said, “and there’s been those missing persons reports in that area lately. I’m sure Dumbledore is keeping an eye on things, but I think--”

“Yes,” Remus choked out. “I’m sure he is. I’ll check with him at our meeting. Which I’m late to, unfortunately.”

“Oh!” Hermione grinned and moved to the side of the corridor. “Sorry for keeping you. Shall I tell Harry you said hello?”

“Yes,” Remus mumbled absentmindedly. “Do tell him that.”

He didn’t say goodbye as he continued down the corridor, his breathing even and his mind blank.

 

\- - - - - - -

 

Remus wasn’t sure how it was possible that he’d taken the wrong staircase after his meeting and ended up in the wing farthest from the front entrance, but somehow it had happened. He cursed under his breath as he waited for the correct staircase to reappear.

“Ah, Professor Lupin! It is good to see you again!”

Nearly Headless Nick stood next to him, a cheerful grin adorning his face. Remus donned a pained smile of his own as he bit back his  _ not a professor _ speech. “Hello, Nick. I trust you’ve been well?”

“Oh,” Nick tittered, “I suppose so.” He looked unsettlingly close to being sick, for a ghost. “I wondered if we might have a word? If you had a moment to spare?”

Remus looked around. They stood on a platform which currently had no staircases attached, effectively trapping Remus. “I suppose I do,” he said in a flat tone. “What’s on your mind?”

Nick looked around surreptitiously, then leaned closer. “I heard you made a visit to the Gilded Lady.”

Remus fought to keep his expression neutral. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You do,” Nick insisted, “and frankly, I cannot believe you would stoop to such levels.”

Remus couldn’t keep his eyebrows from raising in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“Remus,” Nick said softly. “I have known you for many years, as a child and as an adult. You were always a reasonable boy. I cannot understand why you would put your faith in someone who was so obviously playing you false.”

Remus wants to laugh. It that is the case, Nick obviously does not know him at all. “She didn’t play me false,” he said, all pretenses of innocence abandoned. “I knew what I was getting into.”

“No,” Nick said with a shake of his head, “you clearly did not.”

“I  _ did,” _ Remus hissed. “She said he’d be different. Less.”

Nick’s transparent face is tinged with pity. “Even that was too much to have hoped for.”

There was a lump forming in Remus’ throat, but he swallowed it down. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Nick’s face screwed up in discomfort. He looked around the platform once more, then moved in closer so that his frosty shoulder was flush with Remus’.

“Listen to me.” He had no breath, but his words still sent ice through Remus’ veins. “I have been a ghost for many years. Innumerable people have come to me, asking me about the afterlife, begging to know what comes next. I have always tried to toe the line of ignorance, or sidestep the truth, but… you are in pain. Perhaps it is too late, but I must tell you the truth. You may find comfort in it, along with the strength to… well…”

Two frozen palms rested against the tops of Remus’ shoulders as Nick leveled him with a heavy gaze. “There is nothing after death. Under certain circumstances, you may choose to become a ghost, but otherwise… there is nothing.”

“That can’t be.” Remus’ nails dug into his palms. “Sirius is back. He’s  _ here. _ At least a part of him, anyway. He had to have come from  _ somewhere.” _

Nick grimaced. “Whatever is residing in your home came from  _ somewhere, _ of course, but… please consider the very real probability that whatever  _ it _ is, it is  _ not _ Sirius Black. Not even a shell, or a memory. And most definitely, it is  _ not _ anything good.”

Remus didn’t have to glance down at his clenched fists to know that they had stained the sides of his robes with blood. “Lying. You’re  _ lying. _ And even if you weren’t, what  _ comfort _ could I possibly find in that?”

Nick’s expression softened immediately. “Is it not a comfort to know that your friend is finally free? Once you are dead, nothing can harm you. It is only here on earth where you can feel pain, and loss.” He tried to squeeze Remus’ shoulders, but his icy hands sliced through the flesh and sent chills down Remus’ spine. “Death should be a comfort,” Nick whispered. “Not a burden. Not a fear.”

Remus took a shaky breath, then wiped his bloodied palms against his robes. “Excuse me,” he said calmly. “I have to go.”

He nearly tripped as he threw himself onto the first staircase that came anywhere close to the platform, but he didn’t flinch. He didn’t look backwards when he heard Nick’s frantic pleadings and whispers. 

He just kept going.

 

\- - - - - - -

 

Remus Apparated at the edge of the cottage property. The wind whipped through his robes down into his bones. He took a deep breath, then began the short walk up the path towards the front door.

_ He won’t come back the same. They never do. _

Halfway to the door, a flash of something on the edge of the path. Several long strands of dark hair curled against the slate. Remus squinted and looked closer. The ends of the hair were stained with the dull scarlet tones of blood.

_ There’s been those missing persons reports in that area. _

_ Whatever is residing in your home came from somewhere, of course, but… please consider the very real probability that whatever it is, it is not Sirius Black.  _

Three steps from the door, and an unfamiliar noise stilled his steps. A strangled scream, perhaps, or the muffled gasps of someone in distress.

_ Perhaps it is too late, but I must tell you the truth. You may find comfort in it, along with the strength to… well… _

Remus raised his wand in apprehension, even as he hesitated.

_ That’s why I’m here. You brought me here because you need me. _

Remus’ grip tightened on his wand, though he remained still. After a few moments, he took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and slipped his wand back into the pocket of his robes.

He smiled as he opened the door.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks very much for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts on this one, feel free to leave a comment!
> 
> I'm also doing a giveaway for Fireside Fest readers, check out the details on [Dreamwidth](https://nachodiablo.dreamwidth.org/11213.html), [Twitter](https://twitter.com/NachoDiablo1/status/1108507987247878144), or [Tumblr](https://wolfstarhq.tumblr.com/post/183595332845/wolfstarhq-wolfstarhq-win-a-cursed-bracelet).


End file.
